The Shadow of Death

The battlefield's silence did not last long. After last night's brutal clash, the air still reeked of sour stench and blood, while the lingering mist grew denser beneath the sunlight. The ground had been churned into craters, rubble and corpses scattered everywhere. Every breath felt like swallowing sharp blades.

Ryan stood amid the ruins, staring straight into the depths of the Forest Sea. He gripped his twin blades tightly, breathing hard as blood seeped from the corner of his mouth, mingling with the sour tang and rust-like taste. His shoulders had long since gone numb, and blood from his wounds had soaked through his sleeves. The numbness had nearly robbed him of sensation. Every turn of his body pulled at the pain, especially the wound near his shoulder, which felt as though it were being scorched by fire, agony piercing deep into his heart.

But he did not lower his guard. His gaze remained fixed on the Forest Sea, that dark, sunless forest like a bottomless abyss. Dense shadows of trees filled the distance, everything hidden within that gloomy darkness, stirring unease in his heart.

"How are you?" the lead hunter asked from behind him, his voice low but concerned.

Ryan did not answer immediately. He merely turned slightly, indicating that he could still move. The hunter squad members had clearly noticed his exhaustion, but they did not press him further. Instead, they continued clearing the battlefield and inspecting the corpses of the squadron leaders and division commanders.

"You aren't the only hunters," Ryan finally said, his voice low and hoarse. "They'll come."

The lead hunter fell silent for a moment, then nodded. "We've already noticed some irregularities. You're right. Last night's situation exceeded expectations." He swept his gaze around, looking past the shattered defensive line toward the distant Forest